Duality
by Shobogan
Summary: Rachel is torn apart and made whole again; Tobias must help her put the pieces back together.


AN: The dialogue in the first scene is taken from _The Separation_. Thought speak is rendered in italics.

* * *

I watched from the rafters as electricity sparked and danced around them, forcing them into one

I watched from the rafters as electricity sparked and danced around them, forcing them into one. It looked horrifying, painful, but I couldn't do anything, couldn't interrupt.

I just wanted her to be Rachel again. My Rachel, reckless and loyal and smart and brave. The Rachel I'd fallen for, despite everything.

And then she was, finally, and relief flooded my body.

She fell to the ground, weak and confused, but she was whole.

The others watched her – with wariness, concern, relief, triumph – and of course it was Cassie who spoke first.

Asked if she was okay.

"I…I don't know." Her voice was shaky, and it was beautiful to hear, because that meant she could be afraid again, could be vulnerable. At the same time…well, I wanted to make it go away.

"I'm here for you," Cassie was saying. Gentle, sincere, sympathetic, but I knew Rachel would refuse, for now.

She looked up. Our eyes met.

"Thanks, Cassie," she whispered, "But…Tobias?"

_Yeah. Let's go, Rachel, _I said_. The two of you and the two of me. Let's go._

-

We didn't talk as we flew. Silent companions dominating the sky, side by side, a hawk and an eagle. For once we ignored security – any bird watchers would get the glance of a lifetime.

We were heading towards my meadow, the closest thing to a home I have. I guess she didn't want to go home yet, didn't want to face the memories there.

Once we landed, far beneath my tree, she began to demorph. I began to morph. Maybe she was surprised, maybe she wasn't.

It's not a morph I like, strange as that sounds. Even as I grew I could feel my beak softening, my talons weakening, my eyes dimming, my wings shriveling away. It left me vulnerable, grounded, lesser, but I wanted to be human for her. I wanted to be able to hold her hand.

We sat against the ancient trunk, leaning against each other, waiting for the words to come.

"I remember all of it," she whispered. "I remember crying in my room like a little kid, and running over Hork-Bajir like I was in some video game."

I just kept sitting there, gazing at her, listening and caring and being close. My expression never changed, really – I've sort of forgotten how to do that – but she knew.

"It feels so real, and then not, because…neither of them were ime/i, you know?" A slight nod, because boy, did I know.

"I tried to hurt you. I almost killed you. I was going to kill Jake and Marco and that dumb guy and that little kid…" She was shaking, now, and I put an arm over her shoulders. That's what you do, right? She didn't seem to mind, and the trembling faded a little.

"I was a monster. I was evil."

This time, slowly, I shook my head.

"You were a predator. Like me."

She glared at me.

"You kill to eat, Tobias! I did it for…for the thrill, because I was angry."

"You couldn't understand why it was wrong. You didn't have that anymore."

She shifted away, trying to shrug my arm off. Normally I'd have complied, but this wasn't normal.

"I tried to kill you!"

"Yeah, I know, I was there."

She stared at me, for a moment, before relaxing again with a weak laugh.

"Evil is knowing why something is wrong and doing it anyway," I said softly. "Being…whole, and still acting like that." I thought about the Howlers, trapped as children and fed memories of violence. About the Taxxons, controlled by vicious hunger.

Maybe she did, too, because she said, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. But – but I can still feel it, Tobias. That rage, that violence."

"Ruthlessness. Selfishness. Accepting kill or be killed as a part of life."

She smiled at me, a sad, wistful smile. Slowly, I returned it. It felt strange, but not bad.

"How do you do it, Tobias?"

"I remember what I'm fighting for."

I reached over, and took her hand in mine.

"Who I'm fighting for."

We kissed, then. We hadn't done that since we were trapped back in time and I thought she'd died; it felt nicer, now. It felt natural, almost normal. When we broke apart we were blushing, something I hadn't done in months. She said it was cute, and we laughed together,

We sat there, for almost two hours, hand in hand. Then I flew her home, and watched over her from the windowsill until she fell asleep.

There would still be problems. There would still be a struggle. We could never just be two kids in love.

But that was all right, because we still had each other, and that was all we needed.


End file.
